


An Ode to Urdle

by eulyhne_syios, rhys_lila (eulyhne_syios)



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Minor Angst, Pets, Some Swearing, Timmy’s apartment, Urdle is a good turtle, it’s Armie come on lol, post golden globes maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2019-03-09 09:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13478961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eulyhne_syios/pseuds/eulyhne_syios, https://archiveofourown.org/users/eulyhne_syios/pseuds/rhys_lila
Summary: Armie wakes up to a very strange rock biting his face...





	An Ode to Urdle

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I saw an interview and apparently Timmy has a turtle named Urdle and considering it’s still alive he’s clearly better at taking care of pets than I am, haha (I had two turtles when I was seven and they both died in like 2 days from overfeeding...)

He doesn’t really feel it at first. The feeling is merged with the last traces of the dream, of childhood, where someone was pinching his nose as a joke on a hiking trip. He’s laughing at first, but it starts to feel a little painful when the person doesn’t let go, even when the trees around him start melting into darkness, the dream coming to an end.

  
Armie blinks, wincing still, thinking maybe the cold is making his nose hurt, some wintry air seeping in from the windows. He reminds himself again to never sleep on the floor no matter how comfortable Timmy’s pile of sweaters were, stacked under his head. His apartment wasn’t exactly accommodating in the insulation department...

  
But as his eyes come to focus, he sees a dark blob, fuzzy looking from how close it was, clamped tightly around the tip of his nose. Now the pain is really starting to bloom in, spreading like a miniature circus of tiny fires around the spot.

  
“What the… _shit_ …?” He mumbled.

 

His nose is clogged like it always was right when he woke up, not to mention the thing that was hanging onto him sat partly on top of his mouth, so it came out sounding more like _Whaddashet_.

  
The rest of the creature is settled comfortably on his throat, he can feel its warm plated belly and the itchy sting of its webbed claws hooked onto the folds in his neck. When he tries to call Timothée for the first time, his voice is too muffled to make the proper syllables, so he grabs the shell of the evil turtle, lifting it —making it bite him tighter out of fear, and yells:

  
“Timothée?! Timmy?! Timmy, where the hell are you…?!”

  
“I’m in the bathroom!” Comes the muffled, faraway reply.

  
He hears the toilet flush and the tap run briefly before the click of the door sounds and the familiar drumming of footsteps make their way into the tiny living room.

  
Timmy sees what’s going on and starts laughing.

  
“I think he likes you.”

  
“No, actually I think he‘s trying to kill me...”

  
“Urdle would never hurt anyone.” He shook his head, crossing his arms, still chuckling. Then he blinks, eyes widening. “-oh, shit —I forgot to feed him.”

  
He hustles to the kitchen in a flurry of sweatpants and baggy t-shirt and Armie hears the slamming of cupboards and the crunching of plastic packages as Timmy rummages for the food.

  
“Hurry up, Timmy, it fucking hurts like shit...!” He whines, wincing when the turtle pinches harder.

  
“Don’t swear, you’re scaring him!” He calls back from the kitchen.

  
“You never swear in front of him—?” Armie almost sounds a little disappointed. “-you know, shielding someone from the depravity of the outside world isn’t always good parenting…”

  
“Urdle’s a good turtle!”

  
“Uh huh —biting someone’s nose —totally _model_ citizen behaviour...!”

  
“I’ll be there in a minute, Armie —I gotta find his food —kinda forgot where I last placed it…”

  
Armie rolls his eyes and sighs, grateful that this kid doesn’t own a Rottweiler or something. Damned thing would’ve eaten him by now. So much for an evening of peace and quiet.

  
“What does he think my nose is, anyway?” He called back, over the banging and crumpling noises still booming from the kitchen. “-a fucking jujube—?”

  
“I don’t think turtles eat jujubes.” Came the slightly critical reply.

  
“I don’t wanna hear that coming from you…” Armie, still on the floor, cranes his neck to peer over at the rectangular opening to the kitchen above the breakfast counter. “-you’re feeding him what —are those _fruit_ _loops_...?!”

  
“It’s a good source of iron!”

  
“If you want a good source of iron, feed him a doorknob…” He muttered sulkily to himself.

  
“What was that?”

  
“I said hurry up!”

  
“Okay, okay, I’m coming!”

  
Timothée clambers over in sock feet, almost slipping and spills a few fruit loops onto Armie’s head. They bounce off his forehead and get caught in his hair and Urdle does a slow, happy crawl onto his head as Armie squeezes his eyes closed to avoid getting clawed blind. The turtle starts munching, tugging at some strands of blonde hair. Timmy laughs, finally lifting his pet off of him, setting Urdle down beside the plate of rainbow rings.

  
Armie pats himself lightly over everywhere the turtle crawled.

  
“What?” Timmy snorts.

  
“Making sure he didn’t poop on me…”

  
“He doesn’t poop when he’s hungry.”

  
“Shut up…” He slides a hand over his forehead.

  
“I’ll get us some fruit loops too, wait here.”

  
Armie gives him a begrudging smile, nodding. He’s not mad anymore.

  
“Where else am I gonna go?”

 

 

* * *

 

They’re huddled together on the couch, chewing on the last of the cereal, a blanket draped over their laps to keep warm and catch the crumbs. It’s 1 am. Urdle’s settled to his favourite spot close to the radiator and he seemed to be sleeping like a rock.

  
When they’re done the fruit loops, Timothée balances the empty bowl against the glass coffee table before them swamped with magazines and DVD cases. It rests at a slight angle and he’s grateful that it’s just plastic. He nudges Armie’s foot from under the blanket and grins, leaning his bed of messy hair against his neck. He likes the way he smells. Maybe he’ll be able to find the same cologne at the mall sometime, keep it in his bathroom cupboard and spray it around when he felt sad.

  
“I never had any pets growing up.”

  
“No?” Timmy shifts his head just slightly to look up at him.

  
“No. My father wanted me to focus on school. He said pets would distract me.”

  
“Yeah, that’s the excuse all parents use…” Timmy laughs a little. “-my mom finally let me keep Urdle ‘cause she said it would help me learn responsibility and whatnot.”

  
“Parents. Hypocrites at heart.”

  
“Exactly.”

  
Armie reaches a hand, absently twirling his fingers in Timmy’s hair, untangling some strands. It was starting to get long, but he liked it that way.

  
“You know, Urdle’s nice. He’s not very demanding.”

  
“Yeah.” Armie smiles. “-and at least you have a long time to run if he decides to turn on you…”

  
“Shut up…” Timmy laughs, punching him lightly on the shoulder. Then he raises his head and kisses him.

  
Grinning when Armie kisses him back, he curls his crumb covered fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. He feels like he could kiss him forever and then the feeling slowly wanes when he feels his chin getting sore and chafed by the man’s five-o-clock shadow.

  
“When do you plan on shaving?” He mumbles against his lips.

  
“Mm, never if I can help it…” Timmy can tell he’s grinning.

  
“It hurts to kiss you like this…”

  
“You can get used to it…”

  
“Nn, don’t wanna.” He protests quietly against his cheek.

  
“Alright, I shave tomorrow.” Armie chuckles, pinching him softly on the nose. “-just for you.”

  
“Thanks, babe.”

  
Timothée settles his head back against his favourite spot and sighs, falling asleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i don’t know if u can actually feed turtles fruit loops okay, don’t come to me with poisoned turtles lol
> 
> edit: just fixed some grammar mistakes :P


End file.
